The Better Hero
by Captain Risu
Summary: All Bakugou wanted was a peaceful comeback to school. Back to a time before the kidnapping. Nothing prepared him for All for One's parting gift. This trump card will have everyone's resolve tested and by the end of the day, Bakugou will be called to answer this one question: Can he really win when the enemy is himself? [Canon Divergence]
1. It Wasn't Over

**\- It Wasn't Over -**

* * *

 **A/N: The cat is finally out of the bag after two whole years.**

 **Cover Art by youseimanami (on twitter)! ^w^**

 **TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Depiction of PTSD, Mild Gore and Language**

* * *

Of all the things Bakugou Katsuki had done in these sixteen years of his life, he had never _ever_ been late for school. Until their short-lived summer vacation came to an end.

Dim light welcomed him when he woke up that morning. Outside, crickets were singing their annoying song. Their presence wasn't necessary to figure out the heat though. It stagnated around him like a humid cloud. Bakugou blinked, the haze of sleep still fogging his mind. The room remained shrouded into semi-darkness from the half-closed shutters. Boxes covered every inch of it, stacked into makeshift little towers. The carriers U.A. was going to send hadn't arrived yet.

 _What time is it, then?_ He thought.

If his screeching alarm hadn't waked him up, his mother should have barged in and raised the shutters instead. But neither had happened. His gaze searched for the clock on his nightstand. Its red numbers weren't glowing at the moment. Bakugou shot up, alarmed. Following the clock's cable, he saw it was unplugged. Several curses left his mouth as he kneeled down to fix this unreliable piece of junk. He could swear it was working when he went to sleep though. The clock came back to life with a muted buzz, signaling the time was ten to eight. Shock dropped like a bucket of cold water on his shoulders. Class would start in about half an hour and he was still home.

Bakugou scrambled back to his feet and reached for the nearest box. His fingers scratched only its surface. His school uniform was gone, the realization stopping him in his tracks. After a thorough look around and not seeing the uniform immediately, he decided it wasn't worth spending more time on this. Thanks to his efficient packing system, Bakugou found his winter uniform in the blink of an eye. He got dressed and grabbed his bag from the floor which had been in its rightful place, at least.

Anger beating hot in his chest, Bakugou ran down the stairs and into the entrance hall. The pleasant smell of fried bread and eggs streamed from the kitchen but he gulped the saliva forming in his mouth. No time for breakfast. He bolted out of the house, his mother shouting something in his wake. Her exact words were lost to the wind as he sprinted towards the station.

The AC sent prickles to his sweaty nape when Bakugou stepped inside the station. He had made it just in time for the eight o'clock train. It stood at the platform like a dormant metallic beast. Passengers turned their heads in his direction as he pushed through the crowd to get ahead. This was an emergency; to hell with appearances. Still, the barrier remained closed when he passed his wallet over the checkpoint.

"What now?!" he muttered, flipping the wallet.

His eyes fixated on the empty pocket of his rail pass, and a monotone tune started ringing in his ears. Bakugou clenched his teeth. Suppressing the heat building up inside his palms, he set course for the ticket machines. The spare change was enough, at least.

Over the speakers came the announcement of the train's departure. Bakugou squeezed between the automatic doors seconds before they closed. The wagon was packed like usual for this time of the day. Ignoring the bad odor of the person next to him, Bakugou stared absentmindedly at the familiar view outside his window. All he had wanted was leave last week's events behind; forget that gloomy bar where the League of Villains had kept him prisoner; pretend his idol—All Might—retiring was just a bad dream. This shitty morning wasn't making it any easier.

As soon as the train reached the school's stop, Bakugou dashed outside. U.A. stood like a fortress on top of the hill, its glass windows shining brightly. Trees flanked the road leading there but didn't offer any shade. He ran, panting after being confined in his house for a week. If he had still been allowed to use his explosions, he'd be in class already. The school gates came into view. Bakugou crossed under the archways without slowing down. The courtyard was deserted—a relief really. He was in no mood to deal with any onlookers at the moment. His steps echoed in the hallway as he approached the 1-A classroom. He skidded on the tiles for the last meters and opened the door with a thud. Nothing prepared him for the sight he encountered.

Aizawa stood in front of his podium instead of behind it, a concerned expression contorting his face. His students in the front rows also stared uncertainly at the two people standing in the back. Sero's tail figure overtopped Kirishima's but the red-haired boy gave him a sullen look regardless. Bakugou never thought Kirishima was even _able_ to make this sort of expression. And yet, he had just stumbled in the middle of an argument between the most easy-going guys of 1-A.

"We know he is a jerk sometimes," Sero said. "But he wouldn't stoop so low."

"Then what _was_ that, man?" Kirishima countered, gesturing at the front of the classroom. "You think we all—" His eyes widened when he noticed Bakugou hunching on the doorframe. "Hallucinated it?"

The rest of the class followed his gaze. On other days, Bakugou would have ignored their angry glares. He didn't step back or flinch but the intense hate cloud seeped through his skin all the way to his bones.

He gulped to stop the panting. "I..."

Aizawa clapped once. "Everyone, back to your seats." Even with his poker face back in place, he seemed grimmer than usual. "You too, Bakugou."

Bakugou didn't waste time and bee-lined for his desk. The scraping of chairs covered his steps as the class settled down, but the suffocating atmosphere pressed on. Some of his classmates refused to look at him with Kirishima being a notable mention. Others tried to be inconspicuous about it, stealing glances as they arranged their belongings on their desks. The only one Bakugou caught blatantly staring was Deku. It couldn't be helped since their desks were one right behind the other, but it unnerved the blonde like nothing else so far. Deku had an analytical frown on his face as if Bakugou was a puzzle he was trying to solve. He only averted his eyes when the other boy glared hard enough as if to bore holes into Deku's skull.

 _What the fuck is going on?_ Bakugou thought as he plopped onto his seat.

Sure, it was kind of irresponsible to be late—especially this morning. He had been the guy pro-Heroes and police worked so hard to retrieve from the Villains. Not showing up on time—despite his perfect attendance record—would have made anyone think the worst case scenario. But it didn't justify having such animosity directed at him. Under all his layers of denial, Bakugou had hoped these rowdy idiots would silence the white noise buzzing in his head ever since he had returned home.

The school bell chimed, signaling the end of homeroom and snapping Bakugou out of his thoughts. He had barely made it for the last ten minutes.

"Your luggage should have arrived in your appointed rooms by now," Aizawa said over the ruckus. "Remember, you are moving into the dorms after classes end today. So don't enter the buildings till then, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

 _Just great!_ Bakugou thought. _Missed the announcement about this too._

On his right, Jirou strode to the back of the classroom, her jacks swinging in time with her steps. She left Kaminari reaching after her, seemingly eager to have a conversation together. He sat down again with a defeated sigh. At that moment, Bakugou saw an opportunity. Kirishima was still at his desk. Maybe he'd be less adamant to ignore him if another member of their self-appointed little group was there too.

A quiet gasp made Bakugou pause, directing his attention to the desk behind him.

Deku opened and closed his mouth, uncertain. "I don't think it's a good idea, Kacchan," he cautioned in the end.

Irritation prickled along Bakugou's spine. "That's none of your fucking business, nerd."

But the other boy wasn't the only one watching him as he approached Kirishima's desk. Everyone's eyes were locked on him like sniper scopes. Sero's questioning gaze was added to the pile when Bakugou stopped in front of him. He was resting his chin on his folded arms, his usual grin nowhere to be seen.

"Hey," Bakugou said.

Kaminari jolted at the sound like he had been hit by his own electric current. "Hey…"

The pen hovered over the page for a moment, before Kirishima resumed writing without even a side-glance.

Some involuntary sparks crackled around Bakugou's fingers. He clenched them into fists. "So where are the dorms?" he asked.

"Huh?" Kaminari's jaw dropped. "You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like—"

Kirishima's Quirk activating split the pen in half inside his fist. Placing the pieces in his notebook, he entered the corridor in-between the desk rows.

"Dude! Where are you going?" Kaminari asked.

"To get some fresh air. I don't wanna deal with this farce right now."

Bakugou followed him; rage beating under his skin and begging to be released. "What's your damn problem?" His voice echoed thunderously even in his own ears.

" _My_ problem?" Kirishima turned around. Hurt and disappointment were etched on his face like some grotesque mask. "I can't believe you, man! How can you be so _casual_ after what you did?"

"I didn't know it was such a fucking crime to be late!"

"You're seriously going to deny what happened? Accept your responsibilities like a man, Bakugou. You owe everyone at least this much."

"You make it sound like I did this on purpose."

"So this is how it's gonna be. Fine, be my guest. But before that, take these back." Kirishima pulled something from his pocket and shoved it at Bakugou's chest. "Return them to the poor soul you extorted them from."

Catching the stack before it fluttered to the ground, he stared at the yen bills in disbelief. _What the hell? When did I give him these?_

Bakugou grabbed Kirishima by the shoulder.

"I'm done," the other boy said. "Let me go."

"I will when you start making some goddamn sense, Kirishima."

"So you remember my name now?"

"That's enough," Aizawa said from the entrance of the classroom. "Bakugou, get your things and follow me."

Kirishima pried Bakugou's fingers open and stepped back. "Just go."

* * *

Aizawa didn't say anything on their way to the teachers' office. It allowed Bakugou to think. No matter how many times he went over it, nothing made sense. Kirishima had been his regular upbeat self for the past week—as much as Bakugou could tell over the phone.

 _When did this change?_ He thought. The yen bills grated under his tight grip as the door opened.

Several grouped desks were placed parallel to each other with an identical arrangement of stationery on them. Bakugou hadn't been to the teachers' office before, but this looked exactly like the one in his middle school—perhaps a little more spacious. It was pretty normal for a prestigious hero academy. Considering they had ordinary classes in the morning, maybe U.A. wanted to keep the high school setting's authenticity.

Aizawa's desk was in the back. The purple floor mat spreading into the entire room muffled their steps on their way there. The teacher restarted his computer in silence. Aizawa had been a person of few words from the beginning of the semester. But causing a scene after the man had defended him on national TV made Bakugou feel like he had to confess what went wrong. But he didn't even know that himself yet.

"When did you arrive this morning?" Aizawa asked.

It caught him off guard. "Excuse me, sir?"

"You said you were late. What was the time when you reached the classroom?"

The station's clock was pointing at twenty to nine when Bakugou got off the train. "Around eight fifty."

"Why?"

"I missed the earlier train because my alarm died."

Aizawa tapped his index finger on the desk. "And your parents?"

"My mother didn't come to wake me up."

"Maybe she thought you had already left the house."

His mother's words resurfaced into his mind like a forgotten melody. _What are you still doing here, Katsuki?_

Had she really seen someone leave the house earlier and thought it was him?

"My summer uniform was missing," Bakugou breathed out.

Aizawa took a good look at him from top to bottom. "Give me your pass," he said, switching on his computer screen.

Bakugou politely stuffed any opinion he had about the cat-full wallpaper. He handed his student pass, staring at the time schedule on the whiteboard. Next period would be English as usual. The only difference from that day's regular program was fewer hours of hero training in the afternoon. Bakugou's attention remained there while Aizawa searched for his ID's number in the school's logs. Every ID handed to students and personnel had a chip. This was what the main gate's system detected and allowed them to pass the U.A. barrier. If the teachers wanted to see who and when this person had entered the school, all they had to do was search for their chip's unique number.

Aizawa held his breath. Bakugou didn't manage to read the names on the log's list as his teacher stood up in a hurry. But if the highlighted one was his, then the fact there were two of them was concerning. He went only once through the main gate, after all.

"Take this and return to the classroom immediately." Aizawa bopped Bakugou on the forehead with his ID. "And make sure you _stay_ there."

Bakugou suppressed the urge to slap it away. "Sir, what's wrong?" he asked.

"The Principal needs to hear this first," Aizawa said. "I'll explain later."

* * *

Only a handful of students walked in the hallway on his way back, even though they still had two minutes left before next period. Not that Bakugou cared much. He was preoccupied with this new mystery. The ID's lamination glimmered under the sunlight as he examined it from all angles. Nothing seemed out of place; his personal information and photo were intact. Then how did his name appear twice in the logs?

Thoughts were circling his mind like vultures when he turned the corner and bumped into someone. The other person squeaked, backtracking a couple steps.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" A familiar female voice said.

Brown side bangs framed her flustered round face when Uraraka took a good look at him. Her meek attitude changed as soon as she recognized him. Widening her stance, she clenched her fists and glared with the intensity of a tiger.

"One time wasn't enough for you?" she asked.

It was the last straw. The universe was out of luck if it wanted to further test his patience because this was as far as he could go. Bakugou sniggered, the tension bubbling up from his lungs like compressed air.

"You think this is _funny_?"

"I don't know. Why don't you _enlighten_ me?" he said, splaying his hands. "What did I do? Cursed your parents and all your ancestors to hell or something?"

"I can't believe I misjudged you _this_ much, Bakugou. I really thought you're just bad at talking about your feelings." Uraraka huffed exasperatedly. "But it turns out you're nothing more than a self-centered jerk who doesn't care about others at all!"

Bakugou dragged a hand along his face. "You know what. Believe whatever you want, Uraraka. I'm done with yours and everyone's shit," he said. "Step aside. Gotta go back to class."

Not only she didn't. She stared wide-eyed at him too. "You called me by my name," she mumbled.

"Yeah, I did. Contrary to popular belief, I remember your sorry-asses names. Now move."

Uraraka's hand shot out and grabbed his bag as he tried to walk past her. Turning around, his stomach did a somersault at the sight. She had a nasty hand-shaped burn around her wrist; made by a hand a lot bigger than hers. Bakugou knew only two people who could do this, and Todoroki wouldn't use his flames on a classmate.

"Who did this?" he demanded.

Uraraka pulled back, her eyebrows knitted together. She covered the burn again. Dropping her shoulders, she shifted from one leg to the other—restless. Her lips curled downward as if she had swallowed something sour and the taste still lingered, no matter how much she had tried to get rid of it.

Frustration overflowed from Bakugou's chest like boiling water. "Spill it already, dammit!"

Her honey eyes flickered almost gold when she met his gaze. They pinned him where he stood like lances of liquid fire.

"You did, Bakugou," she said.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh boy, this chapter was a lot harder to edit than actually write tbh. I had to re-write the entire thing and join what was originally two chapters so it can gather a bigger punch in the end. Not that I wasn't already stabbing myself in the gut with Kirishima's emotional outburst. I don't think we've seen him pissed off at anyone but Villains so it was hard to imagine how it would go with Bakugou of all people. I tried my best ^w^**

 **Also, I had made a pretty extensive playlist for this fic so each chapter is going to have a song accompanying it. This chapter has** What you Deserve by No Resolve **You'll find in the next chapter whose POV is the song from because it's definitely not mine. No one deserves what happens in this story XD**


	2. Sign of Trust

**\- Sign of Trust -**

* * *

 ** _I didn't want to hurt you like this. But I did it anyway._**

* * *

Bakugou had faced several unpleasant revelations since enrolling into U.A. five months ago. On their first day and after eleven years, the supposedly Quirkless Deku had displayed a Quirk; one amazing enough to cement all of Bakugou's fears into reality. And if that hadn't been enough of a shock already, the rest of the class also exceeded his expectations. They developed by leaps and bounds with every obstacle they faced, even those who hadn't been formidable from the start. He wasn't the only one worth a dime anymore. His strength alone couldn't keep him safe either. Having to watch a fight he was responsible for from the sidelines made him painfully aware of it. But Uraraka's declaration surpassed all of these by a long-ass mile.

" _You did, Bakugou."_

The school bell was ringing. It echoed distorted and distant as if the sound was resurfacing from the deep end of a tunnel.

 _No way in hell,_ he thought. _I was with Aizawa until a couple of minutes ago._ Still, the burn remained like a glaring red stamp against her skin.

"You don't remember?" She asked, confused.

Before Bakugou could object, another voice echoed in the hallway. "Why are you still here, Uraraka?" Iida approached them with heavy steps. "We have to hurry back to class for an important announcement!"

She spun around. "Is that so?" she said with a slightly higher pitch than usual.

"Yes. I was informed—"

His sentence was cut short when he realized Bakugou stood there too. Their ever animated Class President rarely froze in such a manner. More so, he didn't glare at people like their presence was insulting to his person. No, that was a lie. Before the Entrance exam, Iida had berated Deku for his mumbling with the same expression on his face. Bakugou found it surprising he actually remembered that. Guess a stranger stepping in to silence the nerd had been enough of a blessing to earn a spot in his memories.

"Will you be joining us this time, Bakugou… _sir?_ " Iida asked.

On any other occasion, Bakugou would have brushed off the condescending tone. He never cared about how people called him. It wouldn't matter in the long run. But at that moment, he wanted nothing more than burn everything and everyone in his path.

Gritting his teeth, he took a step forward. "You know what? Take your fake politeness and stuff it up your ass from all I care!"

"E-excuse me?"

"You heard me, Four Eyes. I don't know what your damn deal is but don't play nice to me with that face. It's gross."

"Wait!" Uraraka jumped between the two boys, separating them like a beast tamer. "Let's all calm down for a sec."

"And you." Bakugou glowered at her. "This is the first time I see or talk to you today. So don't go spouting nonsense before getting your shit together. If this is what I get for being late—"

"But you weren't late," she said.

"Huh?"

"She is right." Iida pushed up his glasses. "I was the first to arrive today so I can confirm that you reached class on time like usual."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Bakugou rummaged through his pockets and pulled out his train ticket. Glad he hadn't discarded it earlier, he shoved the ticket centimeters from Uraraka's face. "Here, look!"

She took it with some reservation. "Don't you have a rail-pass?"

"Gone."

Iida and Uraraka squinted at the ticket, holding their breaths when they realized the time printed on it.

"How is that possible?" he asked. "We all saw him."

She pushed her lips in thought. "Dunno."

Bakugou crossed his arms. "You believe me now?"

They exchanged a look that could conceal an entire conversation before the ticket was transferred into Iida's hands. "We should return to class," he said, emanating a familiar steel resolve.

Bakugou couldn't pinpoint when he had felt it before. One thing was certain though. Their Class President maybe didn't know what this mystery would reveal but he was getting to the bottom of it.

* * *

Other students glanced in their direction as all three made way through the corridor. Their hushed whispers—almost out of earshot—prickled Bakugou's already fray nerves. Staring at the back of Iida's head only pissed him further. The Class President had ignored his complaints about this walking arrangement and in an act of good will, Bakugou decided to let it slide this time. Truth be told, their interactions had been far and in-between after their first meeting and first Hero Class. For the rest of the semester, they had opted to recognize and tolerate each other's existence—in Bakugou's eyes at least. Iida was close friends with Deku so the blond didn't go out of his way to talk with him. Not that he went out of his way to talk to people in general. Usually, the universe had to align for some brave soul to strike a conversation with him.

Entering the classroom as second in line had its perks though. It diminished the fact everyone stared again like they wanted to beat him bloody. Well, almost everyone. Ashido was sitting on Kaminari's desk, engrossed in conversation with Kirishima. Both looked back only when the unusual trio stopped in front of the podium. Bakugou shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and faced the class with Iida and Uraraka flanking him from either side.

"Everyone! Could I have your attention for a moment, please?" Iida raised the ticket over his head. "What I am holding here is a train ticket with today's date and time of release two minutes to eight. It was found in Bakugou's possession."

"That can't be true," Deku murmured from his seat. "We... live close."

"And it takes you forty minutes to reach school, right?" Uraraka asked.

He nodded.

"Wait a minute," Kaminari said. "That doesn't prove much. He could have picked it up from somewhere."

"Yeah!" Ashido shouted, jumping from the desk. "He is covering his tracks!"

"But his clothes are different."

Everyone turned to Aoyama. He was supporting his chin on his open palms and observing the scene as usual.

" _Monsieur_ Bakugou is wearing his winter uniform—without the jacket, I may add," he said. "The rolled up sleeves of his shirt could foul a quick inspection at the gate but it's missing the _passenten_."

Some gasped when they realized it too.

Bakugou rolled his empty shoulders. His rail-pass, his uniform, the unplugged alarm; all suggested someone had entered his room and took them. His parents had acted like normal though. Their parental instincts should have pointed out something was wrong, right? Yet, they believed he had left earlier and didn't bother to cross-check.

"We all saw him though," Kirishima said. "Heard him too."

Without realizing Bakugou stepped forward, forcing Iida to place a hand in front of him like a barrier.

He shoved it away. "You wanna put me through a witch trial?" He said. "Fine! But tell me what the hell I did or so help me, I'll give you a real reason to hate me."

"Face it. There is nothing worse you can do. I almost ruined everyone's dreams by my own hand already as you kindly reminded me." A sad smile bloomed on Kirishima's face. "And there I thought we were friends. Guess I'm too much of a brainless idiot to consider your feelings."

"That's not true," Uraraka said. "I know I'm the one who said Bakugou would feel disgraced if we went to rescue him but—"

"You said _what_?" Bakugou could believe what he was hearing.

Uraraka jolted. "It was after we visited Deku in the hospital. We all knew about the plan and tried to change their minds." This time there wasn't any contempt or anger in her eyes. Just indifference as she stood her ground against him. "But I never thought you'd laugh at us or say we should count our stars for not getting _expelled_. That we should quit trying to be Heroes since we don't appreciate our privilege as U.A. students enough!"

"We also apparently lack dignity and common sense for putting our necks on the line for you," Kirishima added.

The scene felt like it was unfolding from somewhere really far away. What they did wasn't legal. Of course, they could have gotten themselves expelled. It was short of a miracle everything had worked out just fine in the end. An unpleasant feeling slithered inside Bakugou's chest, not for the first time this week. It was there when he had to stare at the ceiling after another sleepless night. It was there at the dinner table or when he watched TV with his parents. It was there when All Might sat on the couch across him with a ghastly appearance that Bakugou had to accept as reality. He thought it would stop after returning to school. But while standing in front of so many people his age, Bakugou hadn't felt more alone.

His fists started shaking. "What kind of a prick do you take me for? How could I say any of this after… After what All Might did, huh?! Answer me! I'm fucking listening!"

Silence hanged over the classroom like dense mud. Bakugou let his gaze wander across the room. Most of his classmates avoided meeting his gaze. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A chair scraped the floor. The sound broke the silent spell and all turned to Sero. He placed his hands on his waist as if uncertain of what to do with them. "I believe we can all agree Bakugou is tough to deal with. He is always too ready for a fight," he said. "But I stand by what I said earlier. He wouldn't turn around and bite our heads off over this."

Yaoyorozu raised her hand. "I have to agree as well. Despite his overall uncooperativeness and vulgarity, Bakugou proved in earnest he wasn't willing to join the League of Villains." She fumbled with her pen. "When Todoroki and Kirishima approached me back then, I didn't believe this plan would work. It seemed impossible to rescue without having to fight. However, both Iida and I joined this expedition on our own free will. We all agreed to do this together. So please, Kirishima, don't shoulder all responsibility on your own."

"Thanks, guys." Kirishima pressed a clenched fist on his forehead. "This doesn't make any sense. He moved and talked like him. If that wasn't Bakugou, _who_ was it?"

"A double," someone said.

Bakugou turned around, startled.

Leaning against the door's frame was their homeroom teacher. His eye bags had grown deeper in the last thirty minutes, adding another ten years to his face. Aizawa crossed the threshold under the collective surprise of the class. No one had noticed how long he stood there or how much he heard. Aizawa stepped behind the podium without further comments. Pressing something on his phone, he made a holographic screen unfold in the air. The front gate was reflected inside; the angle suggesting someone was looking down at it from the second floor.

"This footage is from this morning. We had drones at temporary positions around campus to monitor the perimeter today," Aizawa explained. "The time here is eight forty-five."

Just as he said that a smaller version of Bakugou appeared sprinting under the gateways.

Another screen materialized alongside the first. The gate wasn't deserted this time. Students passed back and forth at the courtyard. They gathered in groups, ready to exchange news from their summer break.

Bakugou didn't know what he was searching for until he heard Iida inhale sharply.

"It can't be…" Uraraka murmured from his right.

Freezing the footage, Aizawa zoomed between two of the gateways. There, next to a small group of second-years, stood another Bakugou. He had earplugs on with a passive expression on his face, and more importantly: he was wearing his summer uniform.

The class erupted into mass hysteria behind Bakugou's back.

"The time here is eight twenty," Aizawa said over the chatter.

It seemed unnecessary to point that out. There weren't any doubts after seeing the two recordings side by side. Still, Bakugou couldn't stomach to tear his eyes away. For all he knew, it could be an elaborate prank. Even the nonsensical Aizawa had his 'It's a logical ruse' moments. But the hate and general state of anxiety Bakugou had experienced so far couldn't be an act. The proof stared back at him in high definition.

"Bakugou, your pass."

It snapped him long enough to hand his student ID again. Aizawa pressed the lamination inwards, revealing a one centimeter-long tear in the plastic. "This is why there are two entry logs in the system. Looks like a hasty job but good enough to fool the U.A. barrier."

Two drawings replaced the frozen footage. The one on the right depicted a grey and black facemask, leaving a lot to the imagination. On the other hand, the left man's facial features weren't a pleasant sight to behold. The skin under his eye bags and his entire jaw was wrinkled; stitches held together the rest of what appeared to be unscarred skin, giving him the impression of a permanent grin.

 _Twice and Dabi._

Bakugou wished he could forget their stupid names and faces. It could make them feel less real and dangerous.

"Didn't you defeat this individual, sir?" Iida asked, pointing at Dabi.

"Both people me and Blood defeated were clones—a distraction to keep us occupied," Aizawa pointed at Twice. "After a little digging, the police found out that this guy's quirk is Liquid Cloning. But that's all we know."

"The bastard's a nut job too," Bakugou said. Everyone stared as they had forgotten all about him. Swallowing audibly, he crossed his arms to mask his uneasiness. "He talked in contradictions; couldn't get a straight answer out of him. Zombie Face told him to open my handcuffs although he was supposed to do it."

"They let you out of your restrains on their own?"

He nodded.

It was the only time Twice had gotten near him. Otherwise, he had kept his distance. Something resurfaced from the backlog of Bakugou's memory. A cold rough floor under his cheek. Hands on his back, keeping him down. A sickening sweet smell making his head spin.

His nails dug painfully on his arms to push this memory back.

"This is our best bet for what we all experienced today," Aizawa was saying. "Keep it under wraps until further notice. Classes _need_ to continue like normal. If the school enters a lock-down merely hours of being operational again, there will be a public outcry. We can't afford that."

"What about the clone, sir?"

"The teachers will handle this." His gaze covered the entire classroom. "I hope no one has any bright ideas of solving this on their own. Understood?"

The veiled warning rippled like a wave over the class. Escaping consequences for their actions won't happen again.

Iida stood in attention. "Yes, sir!"

"Having said that, we have to cover a lot of ground. It'd make my life easier if we had a starting point. Did anyone see him after he left?"

"I did," Uraraka said. She glanced at Bakugou before outstretching her hand. The skin had blistered in patches around the joint; a pale yellow sheen covering her wrist.

Iida shot him a displeased glare.

"Don't look at me like that," he said. "Still can't believe me and that bastard are the same guy. It's plain as day he can't control his Quirk for shit."

"Language, Bakugou."

Aizawa gently took Uraraka's hand and inspected the extent of the burn. "How did this happen?"

"I spotted Bakugou in the hall and followed him to give him a piece of my mind. We argued. He grabbed my hand and..." Her voice dropped.

"Where did you saw him?"

"At the stairs leading to the first floor. I could show you."

"All right, but you need to see Recovery Girl first," Aizawa said. "It doesn't look good."

"It's nothing, really!" Uraraka pressed the hand against her chest. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

She was lying. There was no way the burn didn't hurt when it looked like a first-degree type. Her tears earlier certainly hadn't been a figment of Bakugou's imagination. He sighed. Although it hadn't been his fault, somehow he still felt responsible.

"Just go already. If it's not that big of a deal, the old lady will send you back right away," he said. "Put a brave face when it really matters."

For the second time that day, Uraraka's eyes widened in surprise.

Iida clasped his shoulder, looking particularly moved. "It brings me such joy to see you worrying over our classmates' wellbeing."

"Get your hands off me, your freaking Four Eyes!" Bakugou shook it away. "I'm always caring."

"Did you have a change of heart?" Kaminari asked. "Are we sure you aren't the clone?"

"Shut it, you dipshits!"

His outburst only made the class laugh harder and louder. The giggles spread like wildfire among his classmates, elevating the mood with each passing second. Bakugou would never admit aloud that the weight in his chest was lighter for a moment too.

Something tugged at his right sleeve. Uraraka had fastened her tie just above the turned up part.

"Now will know who _can_ control his Quirk," she said.

Bakugou felt a muscle twitch under his eye. "Are you mocking me, Round Face?"

She beamed at him.

"It's settled then," Aizawa said and gestured for her to follow him.

They all returned to their seats as Present Mic entered to start next period. Bakugou set out to inspect his bag. Every school supply he usually brought along was in place. It seemed odd. Why did the clone take those specific objects and nothing else? Rage boiled under his skin. No one had the right to impersonate him and hurt people donning his appearance. Bakugou took a vow, right then and there. When the bastard would show up to face him—as it was bound to happen—he wouldn't just beat the crap out of him. He would obliterate him, smash him to little pieces and wipe every last slime of his existence from this world. Whoever orchestrated this bullshit scenario would soon follow.

Only one could reach the top and Bakugou had enough of competition already.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Birthday, you freaking gremlin!**

 **Figured it was a good opportunity to update this on Baku's bday. We all need some angst in our lives on this important date, don't ya think? XD**

 **In all seriousness, thank you, everyone, for taking an interest in this fic. The support so far has been wild and it was only for the first chapter! Like holy shit, it went iway/i beyond my expectations. I sincerely hope I can have steady updates in the near future because this story had been dear to me for so long and I'm dying to share it with you all. ^w^**

 **The song for this chapter had been tricky but I feel** Linkin Park - Numb | Piano Version - Tribute to Chester Bennington by Myuu **fits the best.** **Feel free to suggest me songs you think that may fit the story. I'm open on expanding my playlist since I've been listening to the same songs for over two years now ^^"**


	3. Like Peas In A Pod

**\- Like Peas In A Pod -**

* * *

 ** _"Why are you the hero?"_**

* * *

"Why we have to deal with _two_ Bakugous?" Kaminari whined. "One is hard enough already."

Sero shushed him and craned his neck to inspect their surroundings. Not that someone could overhear their little chat. Students of every department flocked to have lunch in the cafeteria; such racket raised even the dead.

"Thus is life," Sero leaned in with a sly smile. "Now spill. What got into Jirou? She's giving you one hell of a cold shoulder today."

"How should I know? Mysterious are the workings of a woman's mind."

"Ha! So you pissed her off."

Kaminari threw his hands in the air. "Why her mood swings are always _my_ fault?"

Before Sero could give a reply, Bakugou rose from his seat. He had their attention—all three of them. Hand pressed on the table, Bakugou contemplated hard over his next words.

"I am… going… to the loo," he spat through gritted teeth.

The idiot duo in front of him blinked once and turned in unison to their last tablemate. Since homeroom, Kirishima talked only when someone directly addressed him. The other boys had tried their best to maintain the usual goofy facade, but this seemed to be the last straw.

"Okay." Kirishima put down his chopsticks with a deep sigh. "I'll go with him."

As they left the cafeteria, Bakugou noticed some of his classmates glancing their way. Morning classes passed in this exact fashion after Aizawa announced the Principal's decision.

Someone had to keep an eye on Bakugou at all times.

Everyone treated him like a time bomb again; the lack of shackles being the sole difference to the Sports Festival's Award ceremony. Bakugou wanted nothing more than to search for the fraud on his own. Then he wouldn't have to endure this nonsense anymore. This wish scorched in his chest, growing more suffocating by the minute. It consumed his thoughts to the point he didn't realize Kirishima's steps had stopped echoing from his left.

"Hey, Bakugou?"

He turned around with a scowl. "What?"

Only ten steps separated them—an insignificant gap. Why did it hurt so much then?

Kirishima stared at the floor with an undecipherable expression. For a guy constantly wearing his heart on his sleeve, now he stretched Bakugou's understanding of human emotion to its limits.

 _Fucking hell…_

"Look," Bakugou said. "If it's about the money, I'll give them back. Dunno where the fucker found them, anyway." He ran a hand through his hair. "Quite the stash though for _what_ exactly?"

"Night goggles…" Kirishima looked up, alarmed. "Didn't Kaminari tell you?"

" _When_? You were the only one who could contact me. Lost my phone, remember?"

"Right…" He scratched his cheek. "You did say that."

Bakugou scoffed. "Where did you find my home number, anyway?"

"I asked Midoriya."

"Figures." He crossed his arms. "Get one thing straight, Kirishima. I hate lying. Never done it in my life. If I don't like something happening, I say it right there and then. So all these shit the bastard said earlier? Not my thoughts."

The sad smile returned on Kirishima's face. "When Mr. Aizawa said everyone could have been expelled, I just… and then you…" He clenched his fists. "It was so _real_ , man! Hearing your voice tell me what I've been thinking was too much of a blow. Like a spit to everything I fought for." His shoulders tensed as if the weight of the world had dropped on them all at once. "Why did he say all that if they were lies?"

The sight stirred a familiar sting inside Bakugou's chest—guilt. He had to get out of there and fast. With the corner of his eye, he noticed a door further down the hall.

"It wasn't me. That's for sure," he said. "Gotta go."

"Wait!" Kirishima reached after him.

"Don't need an escort to take a shit. You can stay outside—if you want." Bakugou entered the bathroom without bothering to look back.

There was nothing impressive about it. Teal tiles covered the floor in perfect squares. Green bathroom stalls lined up in a row on the right wall. Dragging his feet, Bakugou reached the sinks instead. He placed both hands on the basin and looked in the mirror. His reflection wobbled, getting distorted like a mirage the longer he stared. His eyes, red and puffy, stung like hell. Rubbing the heels of his palms against them, Bakugou willed the tears back by sheer willpower.

 _This is stupid. Why are you crying, moron?_ He scolded himself. _Did you catch Deku's wimp disease?_

Having to go through an argument with Kirishima sucked big time. He had been Bakugou's anchor, keeping in him in place with his stupid small talk over the phone—a much-appreciated sense of normality after everything that had transpired. Bakugou didn't want to hide the truth from him, especially after his speech about lying. But Kirishima was onto something. The clone had said the words which would hurt them most. But it made little sense to anger the class against him.

 _Unless…_

Bakugou gripped the cold marble edges of the sink harder. If the clone was in any way similar, he might have tried to distance himself from their classmates. It was easier for people to leave you alone when they didn't have a reason to care about you.

 _To what end though?_

U.A.'s conference for the kidnapping flashed before his eyes. The colors were saturated since the TV screen had been on full brightness. Lightbulbs framed the shelves of the bar on his right. Their dim yellow glow couldn't illuminate the League's entire hideout though. The Villains had tied Bakugou to a chair in the middle of the room; heavy handcuffs pulling at his wrists. They hadn't gagged him, probably deeming it unnecessary. Bakugou didn't utter a word ever since he had awakened from the sedative after all.

Shigaraki had been obscuring part of the TV with his lanky frame. The hand on his face was pale white with no sign of decay; one fact Bakugou hadn't been able to wrap his head around. If the Villain used it as a mask, like the holes on the wrist would suggest, it couldn't be a real one.

"You crave violence," Shigaraki said. "It feels good when you use it to win, doesn't it? What makes you better than me then? Than us?" His voice came muffled through the hand, almost like a wheeze. "So why are you calling yourself a hero?"

Oh, how much Bakugou wanted to blow the hand away right there and then. Just to look that creep in the eye and tell him everything had been a meaningless charade. They would never sway him. All Might's form—when he won—had imprinted behind his eyelids forever. Bakugou had entertained himself by imagining Shigaraki's expression after he told him all that. The League kept Bakugou alive to recruit him. It would devastate them; wasting so many resources for _nothing_.

Yet, when he landed a strike, Shigaraki's glare had been full of hate and anger. The familiarity scared him. Bakugou froze like a deer in front of headlights. He couldn't stay there. He had to run as far away as it was possible, so the reflection of his basic emotions would disappear.

 _Is this what they all see?_ He wondered. _Is this why they were so quick to believe the clone?_

His gaze landed on the tie around his bicep. The bow was so neat and tight like a constrictor boa. Bakugou thrust a finger between the folds. He had refused to ask Uraraka for help after she returned with only a bandage around her burn. Why bother if she wasn't willing to listen to his practical advice?

 _If she wants to be stupid, that's not my hill to die on._ He remained hunched over the sink, wishing all his worries could flow down the drain. _This asshole is nothing like me. He can't regulate the output of his explosions. It won't be long before they catch this weakling. And when they do—_

Something pierced the side of Bakugou's neck; shock bringing his thoughts to a sudden halt. He spun around in alarm. Everything went still as a familiar face stared back. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact it was outside of a reflective surface for once.

"I was sure you'll dodge that." A feral grin spread across the clone's face. "Didn't expect you to be so fucking _disappointing_."

Bakugou stumbled backward, hitting his waist on the sink. The weight on his neck didn't budge. Without letting the clone out of his sight, Bakugou dislodged the object—a syringe—with a muffled grunt. A weird feeling washed over him. Were the drugs kicking in or that's how it was coming face to face with a clone? He didn't know. The floor leaned to the left, forcing Bakugou to grip the basin harder.

"You sick fuck," he snarled.

The clone sneered. "Was I always such a weak bitch-ass?"

"Say what?" Bakugou took a wobbly step forward. "Come closer and I'll show you who's weak, asshole!"

The double kept his distance though; hands raised, ready to attack with the slightest provocation.

During his next step, Bakugou's knee buckled under his weight. He dropped the syringe. It rolled away with a scraping sound like gravels against a block of glass. Holding onto the sink for support, Bakugou tried to stand again. His legs—stiff like logs—didn't cooperate in the slightest.

 _I can't let it end like this!_

When his hands eventually slipped, the clone rushed to his side and prevented Bakugou from face-planting on the floor.

"Easy there," the clone said with a surprised chuckle. He heaved Bakugou back up by his armpits. "Fucking hell, you're heavy." Dragging him to the nearest stall, the clone made him sit on the toilet seat.

The flush's gurgle turned out to be deafening this close to Bakugou's ears. Despite the lack of feeling in his limbs, his ability to glare remained in full force.

"Keep that for someone that gives a shit," the clone said. He regarded the red tie around Bakugou's arm when something dawned on his face. "Fuck. I almost forgot." The tie came loose with a simple tag. Holding it between his teeth, he started to unbutton Bakugou's shirt.

To ignore this invasion of privacy, Bakugou studied the clone's focused face. Prominent black circles stood out against the ashen tone his usual bronze skin had taken. He seemed ready to pass out from exhaustion. Bakugou didn't remember the last time he had looked like that—if he ever did. The clone's hands remained steady though. He showed the same motor skills while getting dressed too as if he had studied Bakugou's movements to the finest detail. He even left the shirt outside of his pants just enough for effect. Bakugou felt Kirishima's earlier words resonate in his gut, painting the reality of the clone loose on campus all the more terrifying.

A door creaked opened in the background. Startled, the clone stopped struggling to fasten the tie around his arm. He leaned against the stall's door on alert.

Heavy footsteps echoed around the bathroom. "Hey, Bakugou!" Kirishima shouted. "What's taking you so long?"

The clone mumbled something, too muffled for Bakugou to hear. Kirishima's steps reached the neighboring stall. With a deep breath, the clone swung the door open.

"You're so damn loud!" he yelled, blocking the view of the stall's interior.

"Whoa! Watch it, man! You almost gave me a concussion…"

The clone approached the furthest sink from Bakugou's stall. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

The door swayed between open and closed, giving Bakugou a vantage point of Kirishima's back. He tried to move his fingers to no avail. His Quirk didn't ignite either.

 _Shit,_ Bakugou thought, frustrated. _He got me good._

"Lunch break is almost over and you weren't coming out," Kirishima said. "So I thought I'd check up on you. Gotta get you back to class and all."

"Didn't have to follow me inside."

"Principal's orders." Kirishima placed a hand on his shoulder. "I get it, man, it's tough. But hang on for a bit longer. They'll find him."

The clone huffed and wiped his hands. "Seriously… It's _that_ hard to tell us apart?"

"Yeah. That's why Uraraka gave you this." He paused. "It's different."

Just on cue, the stall's door closed shut. Bakugou slumped against the wall, straining his ears to catch the clone's reaction.

"It was so damn tight!" he said. "I tried to loosen it up, but it came off completely! Next time Uraraka has any bright ideas, she better follow through to the end."

"Roger that," Kirishima said. "The others might lose their cool if they see this though. Let me do it right." Clothes shuffled, followed by a zipping sound. "All set! Hope it looks the same or Mr. Aizawa will totally murder us this time."

"Why are you worried?" There was a surprising tenderness to the clone's voice. "Aren't you supposed to be a horse that never buckles?"

Other voices entered the fray with a bang, drowning Kirishima's reply.

"For crying out loud!" Kaminari shouted. "What are you _still_ doing here?! Class is about to start!"

"Yeah," Sero said. "What took you so long?"

"That's none of your fucking business," The clone said before he reconsidered. "You should put some kind of sign. The toilet's broken."

"But I heard flushing…"

"Who said it went down the drain?"

"Ugh… TMI! TMI!" Kaminari said. "Dude, give me some tape. Anyone has a pen or something?"

"Nah. Can't help with that," the clone said. "C' mon, we're leaving."

"Hey! It's your mess!"

"You know how he is," Kirishima said apologetically. "See you in class!"

Their voices seemed to reach Bakugou's ears from further and further away. His body wasn't grounding him anymore, as if it belonged to someone else.

"Letting us do the dirty work while he runs off," Kaminari murmured outside his stall. "It's him all right."

Bakugou's consciousness floated inside this empty husk with no way to make his presence known. Dark spots filled his vision.

"I know right?" Sero's voice sounded fainter. "For a moment I thought something might have happened." He paused. "Do you think we should check?"

"For what? Don't get paranoid, dude! I'm sure everything's all right. Besides, I'll prefer not to have a close encounter with… _anything_ that might be in there. I want to sleep tonight."

"Insomnia or…" There was a gasp. "Don't tell me you actually studied?"

"Don't be ridiculous! As if I'll use an entire week free from school during _summer_ to study." Kaminari's voice barely reached Bakugou. "I was worried, you know, about everything. Then Mr. Talented called me at four a.m. the other day."

"So that was the clone, huh?"

"Guess so… This is so confusing!" Kaminari grumbled. "How we'll know who's the clone for sure?"

While barely grasping at the last embers of his consciousness, Bakugou heard Sero's awkward laugh echoing from afar.

"If he tries to kill us, I guess?"

* * *

 **A/N:** **This chapter turned out a lot more troublesome than I thought a simple transition chapter would. Like it fought back tooth and nail the more I tried to edit it. The only thing I removed was a fight scene for crying out loud!**

 ***deep breath***

 **So the troublemaker is back with Class 1-A. What's his _real_ plan? Are the kids in danger? Will Bakugou wake up and kick his ass on time? All I can say is stay tuned!**

 **Chapter song -** _How You Remind Me by Avril Lavigne_


End file.
